Starcrossed
by Ruan Chun Xian
Summary: Peeta and Katniss weren't the real star-crossed lovers of the 74th Hunger Games.


**Star-crossed**

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><p><em>Peeta and Katniss weren't the real star-crossed lovers of the 74th Hunger Games.<em>

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><p>"No! No!"<p>

Her scream tore through the trees and seemed to shatter like glass around him, cutting into him.

_Clove. _

"Cato!"

The fear in that scream nearly made him doubt it was really her. She never allowed herself such weakness. It was that about her that caught his attention in the first place, after all. It couldn't be her!

But then, it came again.

"_CATO!"_

"Clove!" Her name seemed to rip from his throat before he could even hold it back. He no longer gave himself any more time to doubt. He ran.

His mind had ever only been trained to focus on one thing, one goal. Right then, it still only focused on one thing. It wasn't winning, it wasn't the District, it wasn't the Games.

_Clove. _It was Clove.

He ran, forgetting that this was the Games, and that others were still out to kill him. He crashed into the green, and it was only adrenaline that kept him going. He ran desperately to the still figure that lay in the grass.

To Clove.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Eleven make off into the distance with a backpack meant for him - for _them_. The pack that Clove had gone out to retrieve while he looked for Lover Boy when Fire Girl was busy.

That was their plan. _Finish him off, Cato, once and for all, and take no chances. Leave Fire Girl to me. I'll give the audience a good show_, she'd said.

"Clove!"

He felt even now Fire Girl rushing past him, but he could no longer force himself to pay any attention to her.

There was only Clove now.

"No!" he gasped, collapsing on his knees beside her, clutching tight onto his spear, planted into the ground. As if somehow that spear was their lifeline, that the tighter he held, it would tether her to life.

"Clove! Stay with me, do you hear me? You have to stay with me!"

"Cato," she said, this time so softly that he almost only saw her lips move.

He placed a hand on her head and swept back the locks of hair that had fallen over her eyes. Her lips curled up when she saw him, but it was only a ghost of her familiar smirk.

"Stay with me," he begged, almost choking on the tears that he fought with all his might to hold back. Clove never cried, and like hell would she see him cry. "You're going to be ok, just hold on! _Please_..."

She never cried, just as he was never supposed to say these words, not to her, not to anyone! In this Arena, least of all!

"We still need to win, remember?" he cried, shaking her slightly.

But the Games and honour and the District were the last things on his mind now. He only thought of her. Alive. She had to live, because she was fifteen, she wasn't supposed to _die_!

Her smile grew slightly wider and she seemed to reach out, but didn't have the strength. He did it for her instead, and let go of the spear to grasp her hand. "_You_ still need to win," she whispered, squeezing his hand ever so slightly.

His whole life, he had worked with that goal in mind. That he would win. The difference was, if only one of them could live, she would be fighting back, _damnit!_ She would give him the exhilaration of the chase, of the kill. It would not be like this. It was supposed to be the two of them, against each other, or together. It was supposed to be the two of them, together, now!

He was begging, his entire body shaking, so that he was hardly aware of what he was saying anymore. The words seemed to be straggling somewhere at the back of his throat, and mangled together as they came out on his lips. "No, Clove, _we_ need to win! We were supposed to win!_ We_ need to – "

But she had gone still before his eyes, her hand no longer pressing against his.

The words died with her.

The cannon boomed.

For a moment, all was still in the clearing.

Then the ground seemed to shake as Cato let out a wild, feral scream.

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><p>In the field, hidden in the grass, Thresh knew he had to prepare for a battle. The Career would not seek out Twelves now. He would want Thresh now. He would want revenge.<p>

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><p><em>AN: I haven't gone on a Clato fanfic spree yet but I highly doubt this is a very original fic idea. I just had to write it. It was bugging me and it's 1 in the morning. I'll never get to sleep otherwise._


End file.
